


Pillow Fort

by grabmotte



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Episode Related, Gen, M/M, PTSD, obsessive compulsive behaviour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 13:26:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1268074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grabmotte/pseuds/grabmotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the incident in Savoy camping out with Aramis is complicated. </p><p>One night Aramis and Athos end up bonding over sharing their demons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillow Fort

After the incident in Savoy camping out with Aramis was complicated. It was less of a matter whenever the whole regiment was on the move. But when it was just a troop it brought on memories, especially when it was just the three – or by now four – of them. All the other anxieties and pains Aramis had taken with him from that trip to Savoy had begun to fade over time, but spending the night in the field was still hard on him.

So when it became clear that they would, after all, not reach the city before nightfall he became predictably tetchy and he could not stop himself from shooting dirty looks at Athos and d'Artagnan who had insisted on pressing on when they had passed the last roadside inn, just so d'Artagnan could win a bet he had made with some musketeers at the barracks about an impossibly early arrival. It was not even like d'Artagnan had bet anything important. Just his only good pair of boots! Having to walk in the muck of Paris barefooted was kind of a horrible thought, but surely it did not come quite close to dying horribly in the wilderness. 

Aramis did not take it well.

As they turned from the road when the light began to fade he could feel his hands becoming unsteady, and when they headed for a large group of trees that would conceal their camp, their horses and possibly a fire from view, his breathing hitched. He quickly took off a glove to swipe a nervous hand across his forehead, but he had not broken out a sweat, yet. 

Just to look at their prospective campground made his intestines tie themselves into tight knots. He was nervous, on the verge of panicking; there was no other way to put it. It in turn made his horse bad-tempered. She tried to walk into the horse in front of her, lashed out with her tail, and snorted as if she meant to say _What are you complaining about? I'm the one who has to spend the night tied to a stick!_ So Aramis dismounted. He did no longer have the nerves to rein her in, thanks to his bloody friends, and followed the last couple of yards on foot. 

His companions had decided upon a spot right on the edge of the grove that would be impossible to see from the road to make their camp. Aramis did not help put up the tent, and when at last it was up he kept glancing at it as if it would eat him if he let it out of his sight. He did however lend a hand to build the fireplace, and joined in when everyone attributed d'Artagnan's impressive outdoor skills to having been born in a barn next to a chicken coop. There were some joys even the most nightmarish memories would not take from him. 

In the end, Aramis wasn't quite sure how he had ended up with one of the early watches. But it had had something to do with d'Artagnan having had the first and not knowing any better yet. Apparently no one had told him that Aramis was prone to pulling all-nighters when given the chance. He liked to take first watch and simply forget to wake his friends to take their turn. And what a good thing that Aramis was planning on doing another all-nighter just now, because his friends were obviously morons: he hated their campsite. The trees were too tall and too close together, which made the grove too dark. Not a beam of moonlight found room between those ugly things. He could hardly see two feet ahead! The dim light of his tiny campfire, by now mostly reduced to embers, did not even reach that far. Nor was it doing anything helpful at all. It was as if it shrank away from the trees as from evil. 

Yet, despite all this the space, the grove to the one side and the field to the other, felt too open for him. Anyone who passed by must be able to see them and their pathetic little camp and how vulnerable they were. He was frankly miserable. The next time d'Artagnan even thought about making a bet Aramis would sew his mouth shut. He was hyper aware of every sound around him. Every time one of the horses shifted its weight from one hoof to the other he flinched. And then something rustled behind him and Aramis nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Is it Savoy again?"

Athos, still fully dressed, stepped out of the shadows and Aramis sighed both annoyed and embarrassed. _Of course it was Savoy_. What else would it be? Aramis didn't answer, but Athos apparently did not expect him to anyway.

"I thought I had second watch?" Athos sounded amused.

"It's no use lecturing me, I can't sleep anyway. Or perhaps I will if you do lecture me, so please try."

But instead Athos simply sat down next to him and held out a flask. 

"Here, when I get like this I have a drink. And a lie-down."

"And a cry?" Aramis couldn't help it. He was in mental agony here. 

But to his surprise Athos only shrugged. 

"So what is it for you?" Aramis asked as he took the flask. He took a sip and winced. Trust Athos to always provide the good stuff.

Said friend glanced back to the tent where d'Artagnan and Porthos were supposedly still sleeping before answering.

"Something that happened a couple of years ago, before I joined. It's not … nothing that specific."

 _So I'm noticing_ , Aramis thought. But since his friend was visibly uncomfortable he didn't press, especially since Athos rarely talked so freely. Admitting that he got depressed to the point of crying was a big thing for the man. And right now what Aramis wanted was simply to have someone talk to him, no matter how many lies he were told, just so he wouldn't notice the trees staring at him so much.

Then Athos spoke again, indicating the tent with a movement of his head, and Aramis could have cursed him: "Shall I get…"

 _Damnit_ , Aramis had not intended to drive the man away!

"No. Don't wake Porthos. He'll only make a fuss."

Athos looked at him with round eyes, surprised. But then he just dropped his shoulders as if to mean _If you say so_. Out loud he said:

"I remember you telling me you found Porthos perfectly comforting company, because he doesn't push you and that's why you're so happy with him."

Aramis wondered for a split second how drunk he had been when he had said that, and how drunken Athos must have been to still remember it. 

"Yes. But with matters like these you just know secretly he'll get worked up. And worry. And fuss. I don't like it when he is awake while I'm like this. It's bad enough when …" 

Athos looked perfectly confused when, of all things, Aramis suddenly broke into smile. 

"When what?" 

"It's not funny", Aramis reassured him, even though that odd smile would not leave his face. "Don't laugh. It's horrible. But one morning Porthos woke up and found I had moved all of his furniture against the door while he had slept, except for the bed. That took some explaining."

Athos didn't laugh. In fact he looked as dead serious as only Athos could.

"It's the nightmares", Aramis continued. "That I have my little trip to Savoy to thank for. I get convinced someone is going to walk in and murder him as we sleep. Usually it just makes me check under the bed and the closet and sometimes the drawers, and then check the door's locked three or four times." _More like twenty times on a regular basis_ , but they weren't being _that_ honest tonight. "Usually I can go to sleep after that. But that night was particularly bad."

Athos didn't seem at all surprised at what he was hearing. "How did Porthos react?" he simply asked.

"Badly."

This however did elicit another surprised reaction from Athos. "Surely he can't blame you?"

Aramis shook his head. "He doesn't. You don't understand." Of course Porthos didn't blame him. Porthos could be trusted to understand that his lover's actions were simply his weird way of trying to protect them both and not expressions of lacking trust.

He paused to search for the right words. "Porthos is so proud of his strength. It's the way he grew up. He still believes one day just by holding it in his arms he can keep the whole world safe. It actually hurts the idiot when it turns out it doesn't work even with a single person. It's like he feels he's failed me… even though he is the best thing that has ever happened to me, the stupid bastard. You see, he doesn't really have anything else… or anyone." He sighed. "You're a close second, by the way. Second best person, I mean." That at least bridged the awkward silence that had spread in the empty space after Aramis' musings.

"Of course, I'm honoured", Athos mumbled, and Aramis started watching the trees again. The open space to the other side of the camp he did not even dare to look at in that moment.

"Out here this stuff gets worse. Nothing to barricade yourself with." 

Athos simply passed him the flask again. "You could always fell a tree. I'll help if you like." And Aramis had to laugh fondly. Still, the thought of taking an axe to something was appealing.

"You love him", Athos continued after a while, just as Aramis' thoughts had begun to wander. 

Aramis felt himself frown. "Don't be silly, or I'll return the question."

That shut him up. And Aramis was sure that despite the abysmal lighting conditions he saw Athos blush. 

"Wasn't even a question", Athos said, but because he mumbled it into his beard even worse than he usually mumbled Aramis couldn't be sure.

Either way Aramis handed him back his flask. "No more of your spirits. We're both getting embarrassingly sentimental and you are talking nonsense."

Athos pretended not to be offended, but deliberately emptied the flask in one go. Aramis was so proud of him.

"Anyway, I am not going to sleep, but you may stay up with me, if you want. I am sure Porthos can carry us both into the city when we're too worked up to sit on a horse tomorrow."

At that Athos actually grinned. "And d'Artagnan can shout at us for being irresponsible fools… let's do this!"


End file.
